


A Bird in the Hand

by ckret2



Series: Red Sprite & the Golden Ones (Rodorah slowburn oneshots) [18]
Category: Godzilla (2014), Godzilla - All Media Types, Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019)
Genre: (yet), Character Study, Ghidrama, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Love Triangles, M/M, NONE of these ships are requited!!!, Past Relationship(s), Pining, absolutely zero action, it's all inter-head ghidorah drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: Once upon a time, San had been in love.Not with Rodan.But when it was quiet, and his eyes were shut, he was finding it easy to pretend Rodan was someone else.
Relationships: King Ghidorah/Gigan (Godzilla), King Ghidorah/King Ghidorah, King Ghidorah/Rodan
Series: Red Sprite & the Golden Ones (Rodorah slowburn oneshots) [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476800
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	A Bird in the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of an ongoing series of Rodorah one-shots. If you don’t wanna read the others, all you need to know is: Ichi’s the only one with a crush on Rodan; and San used to have one on Gigan but at the time Ichi & Ni said they had to leave him behind because emotional attachments are weaknesses.

Third had voted for them to stay with the red sprite. Yes. He _had_.

But he and First had voted to stay for different reasons.

It wasn't that he didn't see the same things that First saw—how the red sprite was shaped like an alien echo of them, how he fought with a fury that matched theirs, et cetera ad nauseam—but none of those things mattered. They didn't call to him the way they called to First. The red sprite was only an oddity—a cute one, sure, but cute like... when was the last time they'd seen something cute? Cute like a hatchling. Or a python. But "cute" wasn't terribly impressive.

Third had voted to stay with the red sprite not for the red sprite; but _to stay. _Because this was only the second chance they'd ever had to anchor themselves to a home—to prevent themselves from hurtling off again into the ever-present black void eternally surrounding them. The first time he’d voted to take that chance and stay, he'd been outnumbered. _This_ time, he had First's support—and with apologies to Second, like hell was he going to miss an opportunity to exploit that slim majority vote.

So no. Third hadn't argued to stay because he cared about the red sprite.

... He hadn't expected to start to care about the red sprite.

But here he was.

The red sprite had fallen asleep against them. Fallen asleep or passed out—being so far from home for so long must have drained his energy, and awakening a volcano for them to rest in had take the last of it. They hadn't even noticed how exhausted he was until he'd nearly fallen out of sky trying to help them.

Trying to help _them._ That was a strange thought—that there was someone who wanted to help them. It felt wrong, somehow. Unnatural. Like something foundational about how the world was supposed to work had just been turned askew.

It terrified them. Being helped was terrifying.

It felt like having all the power in the universe, but being completely unable to control how any of that power was used.

The red sprite was asleep with his head nuzzled between First and Third's necks, under the shade of their wings—which they were keeping propped up just out of the lava, since they couldn't risk damaging the membranes again so soon after repairing them. They were too hungry for that—they had to eat before they could repair any more major wounds. They'd reclined on their side, tails curled in a loose circle around the red sprite, and First and Second had gone to sleep as well.

Which meant Third was the only one awake, and thus the only one able to see the red sprite.

Which also meant that, if he closed his eyes so _nobody_ could see, and if he rubbed his neck against the red sprite's face in that way they'd just discovered made him automatically try to nuzzle and preen their scales in his sleep, then Third could pretend that...

Once upon a time, Third had been in love. He thought they kind of all had been, although the others hadn't been _as_ in love as him—so it had been easier for them to suppress it. That had been a long time ago. They didn't know how long—years were different on every world, and totally absent off-world, and how did they count the time they'd spent dreaming between stars or under ice? But it had been long ago. Very, very long ago.

He was still in love.

With his eyes closed, he focused on the feeling of a beak against his scales and imagined it was on a different face.

He wondered where Gigan was.

He wondered if Gigan was still alive. He might be, right? Extremely few creatures were immortal like them, and even the longest-lived beings succumbed to decay and dust eventually; but then, that was because extremely few creatures had been ripped apart and modified the way they had. And Gigan _had_ been modified like them. They’d known him for millennia, and as far as they’d been able to tell, in all that time he’d never aged. So he could be as immortal as them.

They'd left out of fear: if they grew attached to Gigan, and then he died, or deserted them, or was stolen from them—if he _ended—_ then they would have to spend the rest of life with a hole in their heart, and that hole might eventually kill them. But although they'd left because they feared him ending, that didn't mean he _had_ ended. He might still live. Third wondered, sometimes, if he was still somewhere out there.

If he _was_ out there—Third wondered if Gigan still thought about them. He wondered if Gigan ever wondered where they'd gone.

But Third knew that every single time he wondered about Gigan, there was a little less of a chance that he was still alive than the last time he'd thought about him.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, focused on the feeling of a beak against his scales, and imagined green hide and gold scales and silver scythes. Imagined the quiet buzz of his electronic brain, the soft sussurations of robotic parts against organic parts. Imagined his optical band glowing dimly red as he woke up just long enough to see Third was still there, and give him a sleepier version of that twisted smirk he offered them so often. For a moment, Third could almost believe...

Hopefully the others wouldn't be too put out if they woke up with a mild heartache. They'd be fine. All they'd have to do to disperse it was let First look at their red sprite a couple of seconds—

And the illusion was shattered. Third couldn't call the ghost of Gigan back to his side.

He opened his eyes, nudged the red sprite over to lean against First instead, and watched the clouds drift by above.

... Was this why Third hadn't complained about sticking here with the red sprite, then?

Third flinched guiltily as the question trickled through his thoughts. Second was awake; had Third woken him? No; he'd never been asleep. He'd just had his mind closed off. As he tended to do. Usually that was just a _thing_ Second did—a quirky ability he had that the other two lacked—but for a moment, Third was deeply jealous. It would be nice to pine alone, where he wouldn't have to worry about irritating the others with it.

Second wasn't irritated.

Distracting, burdening, bothering—whatever. Gigan weighted on Third's mind; he shouldn't have to weigh on anyone else's. Especially not after so long.

But that was the nature of their existence, wasn't it? Anything that weighed on one of them weighed on them all. Sometimes it lightened the load; sometimes it only tripled it.

... But, to answer the question, no. Third hadn't wanted to stay here because the red sprite distantly reminded him of Gigan. He hadn't even noticed until today. But it wasn't just the beak—maybe it was _mainly_ the beak—but it was also there in the way he enjoyed fighting, too, wasn't it? The sheer _glee_ he got from tearing at them. And the way he'd been ready to burn the world down with them. And he was cheerful, wasn't he? He _seemed_ cheerful. They thought he was probably cheerful. Hard to tell when they could barely carry on a conversation with him. He at least seemed more cheerful than they were, hah, not that that was difficult...

The similarities were thin. But what similarities _were_ there were big ones. Important ones. (Except the beak, the beak wasn’t actually important. Although it was nice.) Important. But... he wasn’t a replacement.

They watched the sky together. They were keenly aware of the way the red sprite shifted sleepily against First's neck.

So. Things had changed now, per First’s selfish infatuation. From "never get attached" to "if we _want_ badly enough to get attached, we _can_." And with that policy change, Second wondered—if Third had the choice, right now, would he _want_ to go look for Gigan? Or stay here on this little rock with the sprite?

He'd stay here. No hesitation. If the choice was between Gigan and the red sprite, standing in front of them, right now, asking them to choose, _that_ would be a discussion worth having. But that wasn't the choice he’d be making.

It was a choice between hurtling off into the cold dark void of space, trying to find their way back to a star system they'd left eons ago without plotting a course, to search for someone who was at best long gone and at worst long dead—versus staying on a world they _knew_ they had firmly beneath their feet, where there was life and companionship and a very tenuous something that might eventually become a home. He wasn't going to throw away this chance to anchor themselves in order to chase a phantom. If he was asked, he'd choose to stay.

His conclusion came with a burst of old, old grief and guilt. It disoriented him. Strange. Third hadn't... hadn't quite realized he was still so... hm.

Second bunted his snout on Third's neck. Third didn't need it. He'd be fine. That was why they'd left in the first place, wasn't it? To ensure they'd be fine. To ensure they’d stay strong.

Anyway, the red sprite was growing on him. He'd grow on all of them. First's affection was contagious.

Third curled up around him, shut his eyes, and tried to sleep.

###

Second lay down on the stone just outside the caldera, stared out at the hazy sea, and struggled to burn away the old, old grief and guilt from persuading Third that they needed to leave Gigan behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post available on [tumblr](https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/187748297262/a-bird-in-the-hand). Comments/reblogs there are very welcome (as are comments here)!


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